Solace
by harvest-song
Summary: An unlikely conversation ensues when Yue decides to honor the memories of those he's held dear. Gen-fic, one-shot. Complete


Solace

**Summary:** _An unlikely conversation ensues when Yue decides to honor the memory of those he's held dear_.

Post-series, gen-fic. Contains some overtly Christian-centric religious themes.

Notes: I apologize in advance for the OC. I promise, they are not a sue, but they do only exist for the purpose of this fic.

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Moonlight filtered dimly through large panes of colored glass, scattering fractal patterns of muted color across the worn stone floor; The moonlight cast multi-colored shadows whose subtle game of hide-and-seek played across gothic stone filigree and statues of long-dead kings whose dynasties had come and gone and were but figments left in the collective memory of human existence; their memories condensed and reduced to figurines made of stone, which would someday like the skeletons of their namesakes crumble and turn to dust.

A lone figure occupied one of several abandoned pews; his pale hair and skin glowing preternaturally in the wan, reflected light of candles and moonlight. His unnaturally long, silver hair coiled over his shoulder, its length trailing to the floor to pool at his bare feet. Clad in white robes, he made a breathtaking sight; he was a foreboding image, an aloof, unapproachably beautiful creature whose presence appeared entirely out of place in a place that echoed the strain and loss of the human experience. An experience he had witnessed as an observer, but would never fully understand.

He was an immortal creature spun of magic and moonlight, who felt the sting of loss and grief all too strongly.

He stood, approached a large stand of candles. He grabbed a match, and struck it against the box to light it – the seemingly mundane action seeming out of place as he did so, and lit a candle. While he didn't necessarily believe in God, at least, not in the Christian sense, the act was one of memorial, in deference to someone who ha vbeen the entire center of his world.

He struck another match – this one, for a kind girl with bright, green eyes and an infectious smile, who had wanted to be his friend. He smiled at the memory of a skinny young girl who, while not understanding the aloof, unapproachable creature she'd been unwittingly tasked with keeping alive, had tried to quell his loneliness and pain with the unquestioning companionship and love of a friend.

As he removed a third match, the hard, clipped tap of shoes on marble pulled him from his reverie, and he turned, discovering a man had entered the room – he watched as the man dipped his fingers in the basin of holy water at the chapel entrance, crossed himself, and whispered a short prayer. He wore simple vestments – black shoes, pants, and a black shirt with a starched collar.

Yue froze, not knowing what to do – he was well aware that even with his wings hidden, it was painfully obvious that he was not human. And from experience, he also knew that his appearance drew reactions ranging from awe and respect, to fear and loathing (he had once been chased by a man wielding a hunting rifle, who thought he was death personified, coming to steal his life away). Unfortunately, it was too late to cast a glamour spell to normalize his appearance, and instead, he merely stood, dumbly, as the man approached him.

The priest, observing Yue's facial expression, merely chuckled. Of all the things on Heaven and on Earth, one of them was standing in his church, looking like a child whose hand had been caught in a proverbial cookie jar.

"You look lost."

Yue shook his head, "No - If I am disturbing this place, I will leave."

The blond-haired priest's azure blue eyes lit with amusement, and he shook his head, "I merely came to see what Sister Dominique was talking about when she said someone was in the chapel at this hour – My name is Father Yves, by the way. And you're not disturbing anyone –well, except for maybe the nuns, but, they'll titter and gossip about nearly anything." He paused, and extended his hand, clearly waiting for a response to his introduction.

Yue, puzzled by the priest's response, replied, "My name is …Yue." He stared at the priest's hand, before realizing it was extended in greeting. He carefully extended his own hand, shaking the priest's in greeting. Despite his past exposure to the general public through his false form, the idea of a handshake in greeting still puzzled him.

The priest grasped his hand enthusiastically, and shook it. "Yue… what an interesting name... What does it mean?" He asked. The priest's eyebrows knitted in a quizzical expression, waiting for the forbidding creature to answer him. Yue stared up at the slightly taller man in response, shifting his weight in an awkward, socially uneasy manner that made the priest suspect that Yue wasn't used to introductions, or at least, of meeting people. The priest smiled disarmingly, and said, "I'm merely curious as to who you are and where you might be from – I prefer to get to know the patrons of this church, transient or not."

"…My name, it's Chinese," Yue replied, not removing his gaze from the strangely enigmatic priest. "It is the name of my namesake – it is the word for 'moon'." He stopped, not entirely sure of what to say beyond that simple statement of truth. He felt the piercing gaze of the middle-aged man upon him, and desperately wanted to hide from it – it was too much like Touya's had been for his liking. It was the kind of gaze that stripped you bare and saw through secrets and obfuscations and it unsettled him.

The priest shook his head, "Well, it certainly suits you. I would be more concerned if you had told me your name was David or something as equally mundane." Yue frowned at the statement, but didn't respond to it in kind. "I know you aren't human."

Those words echoed through him, striking an oddly discordant note – those same words had been said to him, or rather, to Yukito, many years earlier. Yue didn't know whether or not to laugh or cry at the juxtaposition of images – the teenager who had given up his magic to save the person he cared about, and the humored, middle-aged priest whose greying temples and crow's feet gave him an altogether wizened and fatherly appearance. Yue supposed it was fitting. "I am…" He paused, choosing his words carefully, "…a magical construct – I was created to be the guardian of a magical artifact. My purpose is to protect and serve the one who controls it." He responded, again, a note of despondency coloring his voice. "I was designed to judge the one who holds the artifact, to gauge their worthiness."

The priest nodded, "I suspect that despite your appearance, you are much older than you seem."

Yue nodded, gesturing to the statues lining one wall of the chapel entrance. "I was created long before many of the kings whose statues line these walls were born."

The priest placed a hand on Yue's shoulder. "Is that what you came to do tonight? To remember those you've lost?"

Yue nodded, shrinking from the touch slightly. "Many of them do not have graves at which I can mourn – and they are spread across many places, and some have been lost to time. I came to honor their memory… as I am part of all that remains of their legacies." He stated plainly, turning toward the candles again with a pained expression.

Father Yves couldn't help but feel sorry for the creature standing next to him, for the pain and inexorable loss that he must experience as he lived on, as those in his charge slipped from their mortal bindings and left him behind. _How horribly cruel_, he thought, frowning. He was almost afraid to ask the question forming in the back of his mind. The thought was inconceivable to him, but, it didn't seem entirely implausible that the aloof, lonely individual next to him may consider it as a means to a way out. To end his grief.

"Do you seek absolution then? …To join them?" Father Yves asked carefully, hoping dearly that the poor creature wasn't thinking of ending his life, if he could even do so.

Yue shook his head without turning to look back toward the priest. He stared at the matchbox in his thin, delicate fingers. "No. My first duty is to protect the artifact which I guard. I cannot absolve myself of that duty. I cannot die a normal, mortal death – to die, I would need to run out of the magic that sustains me, or, I would need to be killed through more… visceral means." Yue replied, sadness tingeing his voice. "The magic that binds me here is strong, and is much like a fetter – I cannot fade from this existence unless it or I are destroyed."

Father Yves exhaled, alarm abated slightly. "Suicide is merely a means to an end- a cardinal sin; it cannot be absolved." He replied weakly. "I am… glad that you do not think that killing yourself is an option."

Yue sighed, turning to him. "…how do I continue to live like this? When those I care about pass on, I am all that remains until another comes along. I was created to be essentially immortal." Tears formed in his lavender, almost feline eyes. Yue clenched his fists, closing them. "Sometimes, I simply want to forget… to sleep forever, so that I do not have to be reminded of their loss."

The priest nodded, "That is an understandable thing, to want to be rid of the pain. However, that awareness of that loss is part of outliving those you care about. It is natural and acceptable to grieve their loss, to feel that acute sting of longing for those who are gone. If it helps, rather than remembering their loss, try to think of how they would wish their memory to be honored ."

Yue nodded, "They would not want me to grieve for them…" he paused momentarily, "Sometimes, however… I reflect on what I could have done differently, what I could have changed… and sometimes, I don't always know who or what I am supposed to be, or what my purpose here is. I know my "official" purpose, however, there is more to it than that, and sometimes I wonder if my existence were designed as a cruel joke, one played by a master who liked to tinker with and then discard his creations, once he became bored with them."

The priest nodded, finding himself agreeing with Yue's sentiment of being cast aside, but stopped himself from voicing that agreement. "I probably do not have the answer you are looking for, and in a way, it's probably better that I do not, as my understanding of life is from a very mortal and limited perspective – it is my experiences that have shaped who I am – and it is your experiences that have shaped who you've become, Yue. You've lived a lifetime of experiences I can only begin to guess at, and have witnessed more things than I will ever understand in several lifetimes. Your purpose here is what you make of it. Loneliness and regret are very real things to experience and you are within your rights to feel them– however, you shouldn't let pain rule you. I doubt highly that the person who… created you, wished you ill enough that he wanted you to spend the remainder of your existence in misery."

Yue replied, looking at the priest. "They would have wished for my happiness. They would want me to live."

Father Yves reached for Yue's hands, and lowered them, "Then live. Find something that makes you happy, and live for those who no longer can. No matter how much you try to live in the past, the past is gone – you can only learn from it, and move on – I may be mortal, but even I understand that." The priest offered the moon guardian a weak smile, "I know that it is not as simple as I make it sound. I do understand the pain of your loss – when everything you love and care about is ripped from you, you have to learn how to pick yourself up and move on. You cannot focus on the 'what might have been's'. You can only do what you can to live each day to its fullest and like each day is the last you may have to spend with those you hold dear. Life is fleeting – and even for you, Yue, it will not last forever."

Yue offered the priest a bow of the head. "Thank you."

The priest shook his head, puzzled. "For what?"

The moon guardian returned the priest's question with a simple, "For… the perspective." He raised the matchbox again, and lit another candle. "It's been too long since I've spoken to anyone…"

The priest nodded and lit a candle of his own. "Well, I am always here… if you need to talk to someone. Anything you choose to tell me is between myself, yourself, and God – I may not understand, and I certainly may offer unsolicited advice… but I will also always listen."

Yue nodded, casting a glance to the stained glass window behind the altar of the chapel, watching as the first glitter of the rising sun passed through the window, illuminating the pews behind them in a technicolor display of richly hued colors.

Yue struck a final match, lighting the candle nearest to him, as the priest turned to walk away. "May God bless and keep you." He said, his footfalls echoing through the chapel, then fading, as the priest disappeared from view around a corner. Yue heard a snap of fingers, and all of the candles on the dais came to life simultaneously, their flame illuminating the guardian in their glow.

For the first time in a long time, Yue smiled. He placed the matches on the ledge from where he'd originally retrieved them, and walked through the chapel, opened the door, and stood in the early morning light, watching as it rose over the horizon. And for the first time in a long time, Yue appreciated the warmth on his skin.

END

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Notes: So… I don't know what is with these slightly angsty introspective ficlets. Apparently angst is what is on my plate these days.

Father Yves - "Yves" should be pronounced, "Eve or Iv". I went with French names, partly because the setting of this fic is in a French church.

Anyway, if you're curious about the setting, I based this on the _Basilica de Saint Denis_, which is in France. I've been there once, and my descriptions are based on memories of what I saw in the Basilica. If you ever get the chance to go, I highly recommend checking it out – even if you're not religious, it's highly impressive to see.

This fic is set in an undefined time period after the death/reincarnation of Clow, and after Sakura and Co. have passed on. It is a standalone piece and doesn't tie into any other work.


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